Candles in the Dark
by katie janeway
Summary: Collection of drabbles and oneshots that take place during and post series. Most are not connected to the others.
1. Drops of Green

_**I don't own "Witch Hunter Robin". It belongs to Sunrise and Bandai.**_

**Drops of Green**

_Post-series_

Sometimes, Robin wondered if she would one day bleed green blood. It was ridiculous - she knew full well that Orbo was not created from a Witch's blood...more from harnessing the energy of their attacks, and placing it into the dull green liquid that was the lifeless Orbo. The energy was what made it glow. But her Craft was stronger than that of the Witches Zaizen had tortured in those tanks...was it really so impossible to believe it could alter the very color of her blood as well? She shudders whenever these thoughts cross her mind, and tries to reassure herself. But as ridiculous as she knows them to be, they still haunt her.


	2. Temptation

**Temptation**

_Post-series_

There were several times that he struggled not to give in, not to allow it to go on any longer. It simply wasn't healthy for a girl her age, to be so wrapped up in an addiction as powerful as hers. And by feeding it, he was only adding to the problem.

But it was hard. Robin had a way of pleading with a person, using only her eyes, and a gentle whisper. It was by no means your average puppy pout - it was pure longing, and distress when he refused. Her eyes were a direct window to her soul, to the want that he found there. And how could he resist that frustration in her voice, that need, when she begged him?

More often than not, he ended up giving in. Afterwards, he would curse himself for it, and swear not to do it anymore. He swore it would stop, for her sake, and his. It simply wasn't healthy.

But he almost, almost always caved and purchased another espresso when she begged him to.


	3. Sleeping

**Sleeping **

_(ties to "Breaking Point", the next drabble)_

_Post-series_

She looked peaceful, lying there. Innocent. And above all, as though she might wake up at any moment. It was hard to believe, then, that Robin had actually been in a deep sleep, essentially comatose for four days now. He rarely left her side. He couldn't. He was supposed to have been protecting her, but damn her, she was too stubborn to let him see she was exhausted. He hadn't noticed any symptoms because she didn't want him to see any symptoms. Now they were losing time, who knew how much. He refused to consider the possibility that the situation might worsen to the point where he'd have to ask for medical assistance. His Solomon training was serving him well right now, and it would hold until she woke up. He refused to believe otherwise. This wasn't how he meant to kill her, if it ever became necessary. Therefore, she was going to survive.


	4. Breaking Point

**Breaking Point**

_Post-series, tied to the previous drabble, "Sleeping"_

A human can only take so much stress before something has to give. For Robin, the breaking point came later than Amon had anticipated. But the continual upheaval in their lives finally beat her down, after two years, and she collapsed behind him.

He heard the faint rustling of her clothes as she slumped to the earth, the soft thud as her body hit the pavement. Without pause, he pivoted and returned to her. He carried her to a hotel, put her to bed, and waited for her to recuperate.

Humans can only take so much before something gives. Amon's breaking point came when Robin woke after a week, opened her eyes...and thanked him for staying with her, despite how much of a burden it must've been. In that instant, his resolve to distance himself from her snapped, and he lost his senses entirely, roughly pulling the girl into a bone-crushing hug.


	5. Nagira

**Nagira**

_Post-series_

He never had understood his brother. Amon and Nagira had never exactly had a harmonious relationship, but they were siblings. And that counted for something, he supposed. More than once, Nagira had dug up information for Amon, despite their differences in loyalties. How else could it be explained, except by the fact they were family?

He rarely admitted this fact, of course. And for as long as he could remember, he'd refused to answer to his father's surname...or that of his mother. Being reminded of his ties to either of his parents was something he abhorred. So the only way to learn that Syunji and Amon were brothers would be for one of them to admit this fact, or to carefully study their facial features.

It was harder now more than ever to believe they were family. He watched as Nagira interacted with Robin, saw how his brother's arm curled around her waist so easily...and didn't understand it. He didn't understand how it was so easy for Nagira to accept Robin, to love her as she was, Witch, Eve, Goddess, whatever. He saw no reason for the hugs, the comforting back rubs, the smiles that Nagira so easily and readily gave the girl.

And he didn't understand how he could not do the same.


	6. Forgiveness

**Forgiveness**

_Post-series_

He wasn't sure what it meant anymore, to be forgiven. Robin once explained the concept to him, after he'd asked her why she still paused in a church to pray on holy days. It was the usual mumblings about allowing yourself and the individual you're forgiving to move on, about the situation being bigger than petty hatred...but coming from Robin, he thought he could grasp the concept. She believed it, she was the living essence of it, this fragile, willowy girl who'd entered his life like a ghost. He thought he could believe in it; thought with her guiding him, it might be possible.

But Robin wasn't around anymore. He'd done what he'd needed to do, done what had to be done, even as she smiled hauntingly at him, and whispered a prayer. He'd done what he'd sworn to do, and now was grappling with the consequences. It was then that he realized he couldn't be sure of forgiveness anymore.

Robin's words had explained everything...except just how difficult it was to forgive when the person you needed to forgive was yourself.


	7. Selfish

**Selfish**

_Mid-series, sometime between "Heal the Pain" and "All I Really Oughta Know"_

_'You are one selfish bastard,'_ he scolded himself as he pulled the girl closer. One of Robin's many nightmares had woken her, and sent her running to his arms. He couldn't deny that he enjoyed it; caring about Robin was easy. The kid was irresistible. Still, he knew that as much solace as he might provide for her, Robin didn't really want him. She wanted his bastard of a brother, who was so busy burying himself in his orders and his doubts he couldn't see the true character of the girl in front of him. She wanted the brother that he hadn't informed her was alive and safe. _'You're going to have to tell her eventually, you know...'_

_'Yeah, yeah. Later. The kid's got enough on her mind.'_ His arguments played back and forth. In the end, it only meant he was selfish, because he pretended the world was okay for her, pretended his brother was fine and would return to her, when he even he couldn't predict Amon's motives. All because he wanted to keep this kid safe, because he didn't want the responsibility of being the one to collapse her world further. Selfish. He pulled her closer.


	8. Candles in the Dark

**Candles in the Dark**

_Takes place at any point in the series before "Time to Say Goodbye"_

"It's funny, you know?"

"What?"

"Robin. This whole thing with her...it's just...kinda funny."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, if you think about it, Mr. Amon has never acted like this toward any of his partners before. Miss Karasuma is acting like her big sister. Michael's practically falling all over her whenever she needs him to do her a favor. And Hattori and the Chief don't seem bothered by her, either."

"I don't see what you're getting at."

"Robin's changed this place somehow. It's sorta like she's brought us all together, you know?"

"Then where do we fit into your little theory?"

"Well, face it, Miss Doujima - you've done more work with Robin in the office than you ever did before."

"Hmph. That's just coincidence -there aren't as many good sales going on right now. Besides, what about yourself?"

"I'm just like the rest of us. I'll protect Robin if I need to. It's like she's this giant flame, and we're all moths...nah, that's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"It's more like...like she's the match. And we're all candles."

"So you mean she lit a fire under our butts? Why didn't you say that in the first place?"

"That's not what I meant!"

"I know. What you really wanted to say was that Robin's like this big flame...and the rest of us are just candles, right? And if that big flame goes out, then the rest of us are just...back to what we were before. Little candles in the dark, glowing, but not really brought together by anything. I guess I never thought about it like that before, but you might be right. Little Robin's made quite an impact on the STNJ..."


	9. Affirmation

**Affirmation**

_Post-series_

Another day, another battle, another flight for their lives. But this battle...anyone could tell it had taken a toll on them. Robin was limping, and Amon cradled his arm against his chest. They supported each other as they staggered away from the scene, and got into their car.

They said nothing in the car, and nothing when they found a hotel for the night. But it didn't matter. Because when they bedded down for the night, their eyes met, and they smiled at each other. And that was all the communication they needed.


	10. Connection

**Connection**

_Post-series_

Everywhere they go, eyes follow them, full of questions. Even those who know them can't describe what's going on between the pair. It seems more than just a simple warden and ward relationship, closer, somehow...and yet...there's a distance, too. Almost as though they're afraid that if they get too close to each other, they'll be burned. They're fiercely protective of each other, anyone can see that. Their devotion is clear as well.

But beyond that...what exists? Many have caught glimpses of something more - the way she breathes his name, his stiffening back when accused of being too attached to her. Rumors abound that they share a simple hotel suite together...not exactly normal for a girl and her guardian.

But no matter how many times they are observed, no matter who speaks to him, no matter how much circumstantial evidence there may be that the two are romantically connected...no one ever knows for sure. And they aren't telling.


	11. Hair

**Hair**

_Post-series_

As often as he watched her...he still couldn't figure it out. He'd seen the pins, the ribbon...he'd seen her sit on the bed of a dingy hotel room to put her hair up, and he still didn't get it. Not the hows - enough watching had shown that, though when she'd once asked him if he could do it for her, he'd failed miserably.

It was _why_ she did it that puzzled him. Certainly there were more practical hairstyles if she wanted to keep her hair out of her face. Although he had to admit it had never been a problem during a Hunt or a battle with one of Solomon's Hunters that chased them now.

But it was so distinctive...so easy to notice...did she _want_ them to be found? Surely there had to be more...normal hairstyles that would allow her to blend in, allow them to blend in, since they never traveled apart. It wasn't just the attention of Solomon Hunters he worried about Robin attracting either, if he was honest with himself.

Sometimes, he thought she kept it that way just to frustrate him.


	12. Wishes

_**Wishes**_

_During the series, post "Time To Say Goodbye"_

Star Light...Star Bright...First star we see tonight. Wish we may, wish we might...Have the wishes we wish tonight.

_Oh please, oh please...let me get to level 220 and beat the flying rhesus monkey that throws purple fireballs of doom!_

...I don't believe in wishes. Not anymore. Give my wish to someone else.

_2-for-1 sale at the mega shopping store, please! Oh, and a new haircut for Michael. That look is sooo old and he really needs to get out more anyway, you know? He can't stay cooped up here forever, no matter what Zaizen says._

Let the kid learn to relax, and stop worrying about Amon. He can take care of himself. I'm not so sure about my dry cleaning bill, though.

_I wish the Chief would stop pestering me for tea. Couldn't I get him coffee, just for a change? And it'd be nice if Sakaki's video game batteries would die out..._

Harrumph. Just look after Little Robin, would you?

_I don't want to deal with this alone anymore. Please, I need some answers._

...Please...don't...don't let me lose control...


	13. Dreams

**Dreams**

_During the series…post "Time To Say Goodbye"_

Dreams can be a window to the soul, to our innermost secrets...or simply the incomprehensible workings of our minds. For example, Sakaki dreams of being a game character, controlled by someone else's whim - every battle with a Witch earns him experience points...that are deducted when he is chewed out by the boss.

Miho dreams of a quiet, simple life. The objects she touches bring her only her own memories, no others. Her comrades, her friends, are still around her...but none of them are the same.

Doujima...her dreams are bathed in a realm of endless shopping...with the store mannequins watching and recording your every move, searching for a clue into your mind.

Michael sees himself as a dog on a leash, a bird in a cage, a cat stuck in its carrier. But he always, always, bites the hand that feeds him, and manages to run away, the restraints drifting away on streams of binary code.

Hattori is serving tea not to the Chief...but to the emporer of Japan. He is dressed in traditional garb, and having the time of his life. The only downfall is the Chief, dancing about in the background, singing songs about hard work.

The Chief is back with the police. Hattori still brings him tea, and video games are outlawed in his world.

Zaizen's dreams are green. Green liquid, green bullets, green thoughts. A powerful hunger drives him, he has almost reached his goal...but a wall of flame stands in his way.

Amon...Amon's dreams have no distinct images. Instead, black and white alternate, occasionally bleeding into a field of gray. And around him is the scent of blood, and the sound of a gun firing.

Robin dreams only of peace. Of gentle smiles, and warm touches. Hot miso soup and a soothing espresso. Of a world that doesn't exist anymore.


	14. Screams

**Screams **

_Post-series_

They haunted him, those screams. At night he tossed and turned, listening to them. He heard them in his mind, in his ears, everywhere. They were inescapable. Eventually, they dragged him out of bed and down to her room, where he would hold her, and attempt to silence her.

Sometimes, they were the screams of the damned. They belonged to the Witches he had Hunted, to his mother, his father, Kate...they belonged to Robin. She heard them as well, and echoed them, sharing their pain, their insanity, their rage.

Sometimes, they were the screams of the joyous. The ghostlike images of his past, of his younger self on the playground. Of Nagira and another of his lovers, on the opposite side of the wall during the days they'd briefly shared an apartment. Of the true believers, the worshippers, crying out their praise to the Lord. These belonged to Robin as well.

On rare occasions, they were the screams of grief. They were the cries of family members who watched as a loved one was taken away to the Factory, or Hunted. They belonged to grandparents, forced to betray a loved one, out of their own fear and doubt. They belonged to Robin when she remembered those she'd been forced to kill, forced to execute because her gentle words and soul couldn't touch them anymore because they'd been lost to the darkness within.

And then...then there were the screams that made his blood run cold. The terrified victims, the Witches losing their grip, of children whose parents suddenly changed before their eyes. These were the screams that left Robin's throat raw, her voice damaged in the next morning. These were the screams that made him wish she'd never been born this way.


	15. Featherweight

**Featherweight**

_Post-series_

Feather-light. Feather-soft. But a ton of feathers still weighs the same as a ton of bricks. And each gentle touch of Robin's fingers, felt, to Amon, like a ton of bricks pressing against his heart. He knew the remedy, knew the solution...but he couldn't stop this. He didn't want to, even as he was disgusted by his weakness. Robin's eyes met his, uncertain. He found himself smiling faintly in reassurance, prompting her to continue. And as the girl resumed her gentle caresses, he closed his eyes against the weight in his heart.


	16. The Dance

**The Dance**

_Post-series_

Amon watched her as she slid away from him, her hand slipping from his grasp. He blinked - in seconds, it was as though she'd never been standing next to him at all, she was on her own now, twisting and twirling, occasionally alighting on another's arm, before flitting away from them as well. Her feet moved to some unknown tempo - she was leading, he was merely following, she had taken his role. He locked gazes with her as she waltzed back to him, and caught his hand. With a smile, she turned under his arm, then he found himself spinning under her arm...and spinning away. He couldn't follow the tempo as well as she - more often than not he stumbled into other dancers, nudging them out of place, noticing Robin trailing behind, re-aligning them. As the unheard music ended, he slowed, twisted, caught her once more...she folded into his arms, easily...and they stopped dancing.


	17. Tis the Season

'**Tis The Season**

_Post-series_

_Title provided by TesubCalle - thanks!_

"Amon, look!" Robin breathed, grabbing her guardian's arm to halt his movement.

"What is it, Robin?" His ward pointed to a nearby window display. Amon glanced at it. "It's a window display, Robin. I don't see what's special about it." He turned. "Let's go. It's snowing and we need to get back to the hotel."

Robin took a last look at the colorful display before hurrying after him. "Amon," she gasped as she caught up to him and attempted to match his brisk pace. "Why don't you like Christmas displays?"

"That's none of your concern."

"Amon..."

He glanced at her face, at the plain confusion written there, and relented. "Window displays are nothing but cheap lies. Companies use them to lure in consumers, who in turn end up buying junk they don't want or need. It's pointless."

"I see...does that mean that you hate other things related to Christmas as well?"

"Perhaps. Does that bother you?"

"I just don't understand, that's all. Christmas is a beautiful holiday. Some of the decorations may be extreme...but I think many just add to the joy and beauty of the season."

"If that's the case, Robin...then I hope you never lose that belief."

"Amon?" Her guardian didn't answer, and they continued their walk in silence.


	18. Weary

**Weary**

_Post-series, tied to the next drabble, "Reviewing"_

Tired, she folds her arms on the table top, and then rests her head atop them. Her eyes drift shut, only to flutter open now and again when she makes a minute adjustment to her position. She yawns, covering her mouth with one cupped palm, and blinks blearily. It's late, long after midnight, but Robin isn't able to sleep. At least, not yet. The door finally cracks open at three in the morning, and he enters the room. Robin smiles faintly, takes a deep breath, and allows the final barrier between herself and sleep to crumble as he passes her.


	19. Reviewing

**Reviewing**

**_Post-series, tied to the previous drabble, "Weary"_**

She always stays awake until he comes home. He doesn't pretend to understand it - the emotional complexities of adolescence, particularly of adolescent girls, have never been easy to explain. Amon simply accepts it, just as he accepts that some nights, he finds she has fallen asleep between the time he returns and the time he is ready for bed, less than five minutes later. On those nights, he takes a moment to take in her form - hair not yet tousled with sleep, mouth slightly open. Slow, soft breaths cause her body to rise and fall slightly, and he is once again amazed at how fragile this girl seems. He often forgets it, since she is usually somewhat reserved and guarded around him when awake, and mature beyond her years. But in sleep...in sleep, that all slips away. After a moment, he comes back to himself, and lifts the sleeping girl easily, taking her back to her bedroom.


	20. Collared

**Collared**

**_Post-series_**

Sometimes, the computer screen blurred before him, just as it does now. At moments like this, he would lean back and close his eyes, and adjust the yellow sunglasses he always wore. Still wears, from time to time. They link him back to those days, back to the STNJ, back to his friends...back to Robin. In those days, when Robin was around, the computer screen blurred less. His eyes were never quite as tired from looking at the screen because, occasionally, there was something else to look at. A peer, a friend...someone who offered him hope that he might one day escape the collar he wore. He wonders where that hope has gone now, as he sits, far from Japan and Raven's Flat and the ruins of the Factory, at a terminal in a nondescript bank in America. He hadn't escaped when he finally left the STNJ to look for other employment - he'd merely traded collars.


	21. The Arrangement

**The Arrangement**

_Can take place at any point in time: pre-series, during, or post-series. _

_Title provided by TesubCalle - thanks!_

It was a relationship of convenience, if it was anything. She would lecture him in the mornings, her mouth twisting in a knowing smile as he made his way out the door. A sigh, and a shake of the head...and she went about her daily business. He did the same. But there were times when there was more to the teasing undertone, more to his own witty remarks flung over his shoulder on his way out the door. But they never pretended that that little something more meant anything. Boss and secretary. Occasional lovers. Friends. He needed her for work, she needed him for amusement. But they didn't need each other. It was simply a convenience.


	22. Unthinkable

**Unthinkable**

_Post-series_

The morning they were found began like any other. Karasuma and Sakaki strolled into work on time. Doujima arrived a few hours later. The Administrator kept Hattori jumping for coffee and files. And Michael just sat at the computer, typing...looking for something to do, mostly. He still spent a lot of nights at work, unable to fully separate himself from the desk he'd stayed at for so long. When the phone rang, and he noticed the number came from HQ, his gut clenched.

The call was placed on speaker, for everyone's curious ears. "After two months, the examination of the site of the former Factory is complete."

"And?" Doujima burst out. "You didn't just call to tell us that, did you?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, before the speaker continued. "When the last of the rubble was removed...the bodies of Amon Nagira and Robin Sena were found. They did not escape. I am sorry."

"Wait, just who is this? Who are you? What-"

The caller hung up. And the members of the STNJ stared at each other in silence.


	23. Scars

**Scars**

_During/Post-series_

There are scars you can see...and ones you can't. He doesn't know what scars these people wear on their bodies when they enter. He deals only with the scars that run deeper than the surface. Their hesitation, their fear, their mistrust. They come in for tips or silence, and he provides both. He keeps their favorite drinks handy, and offers a willing ear. When he can, he provides solace. He doesn't mind that. It's the least he can do for them. Hunters don't easily fit into either worlds, and so most either forget or ignore them. It's nice to provide a place for them, somewhere other than Raven's Flat or their apartments, a place where they can feel attached to the world. He understands the need for such a place all too well.


	24. Rookie

**Rookie**

_During series, "Replacement"_

"Hey...Mr. Amon. Do you think that if this new Hunter is someone amazing, I might get replaced?"

"Probably."

The words replayed in his mind, over and over. Miss Karasuma had said Amon was joking...and the older man's voice did seem slightly less flat than normal, but what if...?

_'What if it wasn't a joke?' _he thought to himself as he entered the warehouse. He knew he was probably the worst member of the team, except for Doujima, who rarely went out on hunts. It wasn't a comforting idea. No one ever said what happened to Solomon agents who weren't up to scratch, but Sakaki had a horrible feeling it couldn't be good. Maybe they were just left in the field until a Witch got them.

Or maybe...he remembered something Kate had said, just before she was Hunted. He wasn't sure she'd meant him to overhear, but she'd whispered it while they sitting in the briefing room, waiting for Amon and Zaizen to arrive. _"Solomon is both our stick and our carrot."_ She hadn't been looking at the time, but now he wondered. Was it meant for him? But Kate had been talented. Surely Solomon wouldn't have...he shoved the thoughts away, concentrating on the task at hand...and promptly skidded on the sand under his heels.


	25. Dancing Lessons

**Dancing Lessons**

_Post-series_

Hands at her slender hips, he guided her. "One, two, three, fo-ow!"

She bit her lip. "Sorry."

"It's alright. Let's try it again. Ready? One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four, okay now spin...and now, back again...By the way, why did you want to learn this?"

"Oh...it's nothing. I just..."

"You want to impress Amon, don't you?"

She looked up at, startled. "No, that's not it, I-"

"It's alright. It's me, remember? I'm not gonna tell him your secret. Besides," Nagira winked. "It'd be nice to see someone best him at dancing."

"Amon...dances?"

"Yeah, he had to learn it for some Solomon gig." Nagira chuckled. "He sure wasn't happy about it." Robin didn't respond, her gaze off in the distance. "Okay kid, ready to try again?" She nodded. "One, two, three, four..."


	26. Escaping Reality

**Escaping Reality**

_During series_

Everyone teased him for carrying his GameBoy to work. Hattori often scolded him for it, and Miss Doujima sometimes switched his Zelda game with Barbie if he left the system unattended. But they didn't understand. The game was an escape, a way to hide from the reality of the insignificant rookie, the second-worst shot on the team (and sometimes he thought Doujima was merely bad because she knew it would get her out of Hunting), and certainly the clumsiest and least observant. In a video game, as the hero, he knew he was set to win. Haruto Sakaki disappeared into the forests of Hyrule, or the deserts of Mario...the worlds of Kingdom Hearts...Amon once remarked on the childishness of it all...but childish games rarely reflected Sakaki's reality. And that's what mattered.


	27. The Waiting Game

**The Waiting Game**

_During series – "Time To Say Goodbye"_

Doujima's gut twisted when she noticed the time. The attack would have begun by now. Actually, it might already be over. She hated to think of her STNJ colleagues getting hurt...especially after what had happened at Robin's apartment. She wasn't sure what that was related to - Solomon hadn't informed her of any Hunt for Robin - just a warning about today's mission to retrieve Orbo data. She watched the second hand tick by on her watch, wondering when to return. Timing was everything...but if you didn't know the schedule, then how could you know when it was right to return? She hoped they were okay...


	28. Paranoia

**Paranoia**

_Post-series_

Miho does a lot of glancing over her shoulder, these days. Ever since that time, she has been wary, unsure. Uncertain when she might need to make a difficult decision again; afraid of once more feeling a gun in her back as a low voice orders her to remain calm and just follow directions.

She thought her Craft gave her insight into human nature, thought it would prevent her from making the same mistakes as others before her, prepare her for the fear and uncertainty of...of the emptiness, the overwhelming loss when faced with the disappearance of her power...she was wrong. And she'd made a choice, listened to the orders...had prayed for some intervention, something that would make her stop...she had never expected the answer she was given.

She redeemed herself that night, she hopes. But she had been so afraid that night...given in so easily to fear...only to be forgiven with a frantic hug and wide green eyes. She looks over her shoulder all the time now. Old demons haunt her steps, and new ones have fallen in step beside them. She still expects the flames of retribution...and she is no longer so sure they wouldn't be welcomed.


	29. Guarded Sleep

**Guarded Sleep**

_Post-series_

She no longer hears the screams. She no longer hears anything, really. Just the beat of her heart, and the beat of his, and their breathing. He's somewhere nearby, she can sense it. But she also knows that he'll leave if he thinks she's awake. His vigil is their best-kept secret, one they both know exists but refuse to acknowledge. He watches over her sleep, her dreams...watches and is there to soothe her when the screams begin again, though she can't recall having heard them in her sleep since his first nightly vigil. She is hovering near sleep, barely alert...only able to sense their hearts, their breaths...and then even that fades away into nothingness as she lets go of that final, tenuous grasp on consciousness.


	30. Ghosts

**Ghosts**

_Post-series_

At night, she sits alone, surrounded by ghosts. They drift before her, eyes beseeching, lips forming soundless words, but she can hear the screams anyway. Their anguish, their fear, their pain...it all resonates with her. She sometimes wonders if her father meant her to bear this too. If he would have created her had he known how sensitive she'd be to the presence of other witches, to their echoes...But she does exist.

And she exists to bring them peace, they tell her this. They beg it of her, as do the living Witches she encounters. They know her for what she is - her power is unmistakable. And they all want the same thing. She wants it too.

But she's lost, herself, in a world that confuses and frightens her as it fascinates her. She cannot free them until she has truly freed herself, and for that...she must do the thing she knows Amon worries most about. She must open herself to her Craft. And if the worst should happen...she knows there will be friends among the ghosts.


	31. Office Rumors

**Office Rumors**

_Pre/During series; Original Character_

It was just a job, nothing more. He never even saw what was actually going on, so he couldn't substantiate the rumors that surrounded his workplace. All he did was file paperwork...and "subject for testing" could easily apply to a rodent as much as a Witch, right?

Right. Witches were brought in, sure...but that was for questioning, for treatment...the Factory was just a stepping stone toward the next destination. It had to be, didn't it? After all, he filled out exit slips for all of the Witches brought in...

The young secretary shoved the thoughts out of his mind. It wasn't his place. It was just a job, and it was best not to get involved in silly office rumors.


	32. A Little Piece of Paper

**A Little Piece of Paper**

_During series – "Raindrops"_

Robin never knew such a small piece of paper could be so heavy. It was a simple rectangle, with simple printing. It fit easily into her palm. And yet...it felt larger. It gnawed at her as she snatched the newspaper away from the man who sat at the gate and ran to the elevator. It wasn't physically there with her, but it might as well have been.

It continued to weigh in her mind, that small scrap of paper, as she pressured Amon into helping her investigate. It was an itch that wouldn't go away.

Later, when it was over, she released the card into the water with an apology. But it still was there, settled in the back of her mind. She wouldn't forget.


	33. Paid in Full

**Paid in Full**

_During series - in my mind, it's just before Separate Lives, but it could technically be anytime before then_

He didn't want to be there. _I'll never lose an office bet again. _

Robin wobbled in shoes with heels higher than her boots'. Amon glowered as Robin, frustrated, teeter-tottered her way over to him.

"I can't wear these," she complained, softly. "Are they really necessary?"

"I'm not the one you should be asking," he pointed out, nodding in Doujima's direction. The blonde was excitedly choosing more pumps for Robin to try on.

Robin grimaced, turned, wobbled again. Too much. Plop! Into his lap she fell. Robin stammered apologies as Amon silently thanked Doujima for forcing this shopping trip on him.


	34. Slipstream

**Slipstream**

_Pre/During series_

The data raced across the screen, and his eyes tracked it ceaselessly. It was simply what he did. And if he didn't do it...

He blinked, and returned to the lines. The slipstream.

He'd heard that word once, on an old sci-fi TV show from a few decades back...and they'd shown space, full of whirling blues and greens - the slipstream.

In a way...he viewed the data like that. It was a different space, but the colors were the same, racing across the screen – blueprints, dossiers, case files, Factory reports…It was what allowed him to continue moving through this life.


	35. Watcher

**Watcher**

_During series – Loaded Guns_

He questioned why he was watching her. In his mind, he understood it was orders. Zaizen wanted an eye kept on Robin until...until she could be _successfully _dealt with. In his heart...he was troubled.

Robin was no Witch, of that, he was certain. Careful observation and cautious experiments - he refused to consider the idea he might actually have been trying to kill her, as per orders - had shown Robin simply didn't behave as a Witch usually did.

The girl seemed more prone to uncertainty around him simply because of their age and experience differences - not because she feared for her life, or was plotting against the STN-J, as Kate had.

He questioned why he watched her – but he didn't question why he couldn't _stop_ watching her.


	36. Memories

**Memories**

_Post-series_

_There's still traces of him in the air..._

She stood, hesitantly, at the door to the apartment. _Do I really...want to go in there?_

That night, more than a year ago now, was so firmly etched in her mind..._A circle of chalk or sand, she'd never been sure which, only of the runes and their importance...bullets...pain...fear...practically choking on the fear...and the_ **_anger_**.

The anger was what she really remembered. _Why did she have to-_ Without realizing it, she'd crossed the threshold, and stood in the room. That room.

_It still feels as if..._She closed her eyes, remembering...remembering...him. "Amon..." Her features twisted in anger and grief, she grabbed a long-forgotten piece of something, hard plastic, firm and reassuring in her hand, and threw it at the window. Another piece of plastic was thrown in the direction of her roommate's bedroom.

_Robin…_

She spat on the floor, and spun on her heel. In a moment, the door slammed, and the key turned in the lock. The apartment was once more left empty, save for the memories it harbored


	37. Executive Decision

**Executive Decision**

_Pre-series_

_Thanks to TesubCalle for the title. _

"And tell me what?" she snapped angrily. "Where are we supposed to go, Amon? What's such a horrible secret that you've got to rip me away from my life when _you_ decide, just to tell me something? Bad enough you do this at work, now you're acting as if you're the leader here. Well, I've got news for you, Amon. You _aren't_ the leader. We're _equals_. _Partners_. So you don't get to call the shots, and we don't play into this paranoia you have that someone you may have met in the last ten years will overhear this secret and tell the world!"

He stood, letting the tirade wash over him. She continued, spouting choice words. He ignored them, noting instead the way her hair rose slightly and the faint crackling noises from the television. Zaizen had been correct. When she finished, he met her gaze coolly.

"The secret was," he said softly, "a diversion. I don't want to do this…but you give me no choice." He pulled his Orbo gun from his coat. "I'd hoped to avoid a scene by doing this elsewhere, but…" he let the sentence dangle.

She was speechless. And in the moment it took for her to register what was happening and respond with her Craft, an Orbo bullet was already firmly lodged in her heart. Amon then pulled another gun out…one that was loaded with rune-covered bullets. In a shot, it was done. He picked up the spent shell as he dialed Zaizen on his phone. "It's done. Kate is no longer a threat to us."


	38. Something to think on

_**Something to think on**_

_Post-series_

Robin had felt _something_ for her warden for most of the time they'd spent together. Her experience with men was limited, to say the least, so she wasn't sure that it was love. But it was powerful. And when he didn't reject her advances one evening, but instead responded with enthusiasm, her spirits soared.

But a tiny feeling, a doubt, remained.

And when Amon backpedalled shortly into their new relationship, she was not surprised by his actions. What did surprise her was how little it affected her. And that, in turn, disturbed her far more than any broken heart ever could.


	39. Surprise

_**Surprise  
**__A/N: I'll let you decide who it is, heh. Post-series._

It wasn't quite like she expected. Heat, warmth, pressure, taste...she definitely hadn't anticipated the taste. The bittersweet flavor of alcohol laced with something else...something that her system didn't much care for. Cigarettes, maybe? He smelled vaguely of them...She'd never expected her first kiss to make her stomach roll slightly, but then...she'd never expected it to happen after he'd been out drinking, either.

Robin spent a brief moment worrying whether he would even remember this in the morning, whether this was even what she'd wanted, a childish fantasy suddenly becoming real...and then she glanced into his eyes when they broke apart at last, as she struggled to catch her breath. He chuckled lowly, murmured something in her daze she didn't understand, and pulled her close again, eliminating any final, lingering traces of doubt.


	40. A Gentleman

_**A Gentleman  
**__Post-series_

Robin would never have thought Amon could be...well...so obviously considerate. Too often, it seemed that he made a choice and she was expected to go with it. And she so rarely put her foot down...

But it was all too soon, too fast, a fact that came rushing at her when Amon reached for the zipper of her skirt. And much as she wanted to continue it, instinct warned her it would be distastrous. So she refused.

And Amon, to her surprise, backed off. It was so unlike him, that Robin was taken aback.

"I am perfectly capable of behaving like a gentleman when the situation calls for it, Robin."


	41. A Question of Judgement

_**A Question of Judgement  
**__Post-series_

It wasn't something he'd anticipated. Nor was it something, necessarily, that she was ready for. But to see his Robin like that, her back arching in response to his touch...it wasn't something he could resist, either. So he continued what he was doing, and also took it further.

And while it happened, he allowed himself to be happy. To forget that it was a mistake.

It was only afterwords, when she curled against him, trembling from some inexplicable emotion, that he felt guilt. And began to wonder. Was he truly fit to judge what was best for her, after this?


	42. Celebration

**Celebration  
**_Takes place between "Time to Say Goodbye" and "Missing"_

With a flicker and a sigh, she leaves the room. Leaves and you wonder if she was really there at all. Or is she a wisp of drink-induced haze, from this alcohol-smelling cloud that seems to hold your mind?

You blink and the walls swirl before you. Swirl the way you remember her tears doing as her face disappeared below you, into the dark...the face that told you exactly what you were doing.

But that was a green blur, and this...these walls are beige. You think. You don't exactly care...well, they're not entirely beige. One corner of them is spattered with some other color, orangey-yellow from your stomach's earlier protests to how you've fed it. How you haven't fed it.

A flicker, a blink, a groan...and her voice is in your ear. Her breath tickles you and you let loose with a rough chuckle. It startles you and you're alone again. It wasn't real anyway, you know. She never leaned that close to you. She was afraid to.

She was right to be afraid, you think, you mutter. Tumble from the chair, ignore the pain, let yourself fall, and see your gun where you dropped it. Dropped it hours ago, when you came in the door, carrying your bag of happyness. You're celebrating, you remember. New orders. She was right to be afraid.

You're going to hunt her. You reach for the bottle that seems to move further away every time you grab for it.

Yeah, you think. Once you're done celebrating. Because that's what it is...

Isn't it?


	43. Playing For Keeps

**Playing For Keeps**

_Post-series_

_"This isn't some game, little girl. This is playing for keeps."_

She no longer remembers who told her that. She remembers the context - back when it all began, when she first began trying to contact the Witches, instead of hunting them. Back when Amon...

She's getting better at blocking those thoughts now. She can't let them distract her. Especially not now.

She turns her gaze to the figure at the end of the alley. Over the years, she'd encountered many who disapproved of her. Many who tried to despose of her. She'd gotten past them all - some by persuasion, others with her Craft if necessary. But she did her best not to kill.

Something tells her to fight to kill this time - trying to avoid it will not be an option. Her gut twists - she doesn't like doing this. Never has. Even when she was a Hunter, she still grieved for the souls of those she was forced to kill. In private, of course, once the fights were over. She'd curl into her bed, and pray.

She's not sure she'll be the one praying after this fight. It might be him.

"Amon..." she whispers to herself, before shutting all thoughts of the man away completely. He is simply another enemy at the moment. She has never met him before, never gotten close to him. At least, that's what she's tried to convince herself of.

Because this time...he's playing for keeps.


	44. A Losing Dance

**A Losing Dance**  
_Post-series_  
_Precursor to "Not a Thing Learned"_

One step forward, two steps back. Frustration and futility. Always catching him, barely, with the edges of her fingertips.

Robin was sick of it.

It was done; she couldn't take it anymore. The stares he gave her, those hints of what they could be...

But for every glimpse, there were two more walls. And she couldn't take it anymore.

She wasn't the type for ultimatums - she felt they boxed people in, left them with no options. But in her own quiet way, she offered one to Amon.

It was simple - he just had to _try. _And for a moment, she thought it might work.

Then the last wall slammed into place behind his eyes, and she no longer recognized him.

One step forward, two steps back...a losing dance.

Amon was left behind, in an empty room, with only the vaguest hint of what he'd lost.


	45. Not a Thing Learned

**Not a Thing Learned**_  
Post-series  
Follow-up to "A Losing Dance"_

"Seven days and not a return  
Seven lives and not a thing learned" - We Are, Vertical Horizon, Everything You Want

It was his own fault, he knew. But it didn't matter. He was fine. He would be fine.

Robin hadn't known what she was asking.

He couldn't give in to her request, even if their situation allowed it - which, he had told her, time and again, it did not. He was her guardian, not her friend. Not her brother. Nor her lover. None of those. He couldn't be.

He wouldn't be, tempted as he was. He wanted objectivity, he didn't want to hurt her. One day, he might have to hurt her anyway - best to keep it as impersonal as possible.

He knew it was bullshit. He didn't care. It worked. It worked too well.

But he was fine. And she was probably better off without him, anyway.

He was fine. He would be fine.


	46. Naptime

**Naptime**

_During series; pre-"Time To Say Goodbye"_

_A/N: I fully admit that I cannot see Amon doing this._

Robin yawned, covering her mouth with one delicate hand. The other supported her head, and she blinked at her screen.

"Are you alright, Robin?"

"Hmm?" She glanced up. "Oh...Doujima...Y-yes, I'm fine..."

"You look a little tired, Robin, why don't you go home early today and get some rest."

Robin shook her head. "That's alright. I'm almost done, anyway."

"If you're sure..."

"I'm sure."

Doujima left the younger girl at her desk, and returned to her fashion magazine. She chuckled when, less than ten minutes later, she heard the change in Robin's breathing. She sneaked a peek. Sure enough, Robin was slumped over at her desk, hand on her mouse, a passage of text highlighted. And she was sound asleep. It was then that the elevator dinged, and Amon walked in. He stopped short at the sight of the sleeping Robin.

"Oh, Amon! Should I wake her?"

"...No. That's alright. Let her sleep. I'll talk to her about it later." Amon then sat at his own desk, clicked his mouse a few times, and began to work. Curious, Doujima tiptoed over to stand behind him.

"Anything interesting?" He shook his head. She sighed dramatically. "Alright then."

Once again, she buried herself in her magazine, but not before grinning to herself. Amon had opened the same file Robin had been working on before falling asleep - and was now apparently completing his partner's work.


	47. To Be Her

**To Be Her**  
_Post-series_

There were times she wished she could be _that_ girl. The one who giggled, and flirted, and broke men's hearts as easily as she snapped her fingers. As easily as she usually called up her flames.

Sometimes, she thought that kind of girl would appeal to him.

There were other times where she wanted to be sure, business-like. Less of a Doujima and more of a Karasuma, she supposed. She missed them. Missed their influence.

She didn't think he was attracted to them, but she thought he respected those girls.

Most of all, though, she just wished she could be herself...and be okay with it. That _he_ could be okay with it.


	48. His Best Shot

**His Best Shot**  
_Post-series_

He gave it his best shot. He was stern. Demanding. He _ordered _her to listen to him.

But she didn't.

He tried being calm. Talking placatingly, thinking perhaps she'd calm down then.

She didn't. In fact, she simply got worse.

In the end...he pleaded with her. Begged her to not make him do this. He _never_ begged, _hated_ the idea of lowering his defenses like that.

The flames consuming the city burned on.

So...he gave it his best shot. And he didn't miss.


	49. 320 Years

**320 Years**

_Post-series. Can be perceived as being tied to Chapter 50, "End of Days," though this was not my original intent. Ironic, neh?_

Three hundred and twenty years have passed since the Coven sank in the dark. The thought stayed in her mind, refusing to leave. It was an incessant mantra, and she didn't quite know what to do about it. If she was the Eve, surely she should have known...surely she wouldn't be repeating this simple fact to herself, searching for an answer.

Three hundred and twenty years have passed since the Coven sank in the dark. Methuselah had chosen her in order to die. Methuselah, one of the last to remember the Coven in those days.

"Three hundred and twenty years..." she said aloud, and she noticed Amon's gaze slide in her direction. She shook her head, and his eyes returned forward, allowing her privacy. They'd long since reached the point at which he knew when to allow her time with her thoughts.

Three hundred and twenty years have passed since the Coven sank in the dark. In the dark...hidden. Unseen by those who didn't want to know. Hunted by those who claimed to care. Whims decided fates. Friends became enemies.

Three hundred and twenty years have passed since the Coven sank in the dark. In the dark...confused. Young Witches, frightened by power. Elders, lost in its darkness. The prey of the hunters. The hunters...who were never the hunted.

Three hundred and twenty years have passed since the Coven sank in the dark. Never the hunted. An idea began to grow then, just a small one. Robin smiled, and if you looked closely, you could almost see a flame rising behind her eyes.

Three hundred and twenty years have passed since the Coven sank in the dark. It was time, once more, to bring the Coven into the light.


	50. End of Days

**End of Days****  
**_Post-series – can be perceived as being tied to "320 Years" but that was not intentional on the author's part._

_"And in other news today, the government has announced it will be working closely with SOLOMON operatives to contain this latest threat to the metropolitan area. Residents are advised to stay inside while trained STN officials perform their duties. The mayor assured the media today that the Witches who have been terrorizing the area will be taken care of within the next few days."_

Click. Channel change

_"Latest reports indicate that this uprising was started by a young Witch. Others refer to her as the "Eve." She is rumored to be their leader, and among the most powerful. To discuss whether this "Eve" actually exists, and also what it means to have Witches practicing again in our society are Doctor-"_

Click. Channel change

_"Panic ensued as two Witches were seen battling with SOLOMON operatives in the northern region. Witnesses say objects were levitating through space in the area where this occurred. Reports also indicate-"_

Click. Channel change

_"It's possible that we can come to a truce. If their leader, this Eve, this girl...whoever she is, if she would be willing to come forth and stop this...The Prime Minister has said he would be willing to negotiate a treaty-"_

Click. TV off.

"I think it's going well."


End file.
